


Digital Retribution

by jxkuzure



Category: Hannibal (TV), Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Android Hannibal, Asexuality, Body Horror, Crossover, Cyborgs, Dystopia, Eventual Sex, Hannibal is Not a Cannibal, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Pansexual Character, Robot/Human Relationships, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-04 15:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3073751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxkuzure/pseuds/jxkuzure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{Hannibal/Metal Gear Solid Crossover} </p><p>Set in the year 2032 where technology and medicine has improved greatly and androids are introduced. Hannibal wakes from his slumber as something artificial and issues a vendetta against the persons responsible and unknowingly finds himself more human once he meets Will Graham, one of the medical researchers responsible for his new identity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> {This work has been inspired by two of my favorite types of media; Hannibal & Metal Gear}  
> I spent most of New Year's eve writing this and I feel so good about my accomplishment.
> 
> The words in blockquote & italics are flashbacks/foreshadows
> 
> [Listen To The Playlist Created For This Fic](http://8tracks.com/kanaore/digital-retribution)
> 
> Happy 2015, may this year not be shitty like the previous years.
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Mentions Of Child Death, Mutilation, Gore, and Body Horror

"Digital Retribution"  
Hannibal x MG: Revengeance Crossover  
Anonymously

**Born**

**Into a pack**

**There’s no choice**

**But take orders to attack**

**Locked up in chains**

**I get fed**

**But the hunger still remains**

**Not content to live this way**

**Being led by the blind**

**Got to plan my dispersal**

**Time to leave them all behind**

**Breaking out of my pain**

**Nothing ventured – nothing gained**

**I’m my own master now**

 

\--❝I'm My Own Master Now❞

Jamie Christopherson

 

1

 

> _A ruthless, maniacal killing machine born from science and mankind's hunger to destroy each other. Left unattended the machine turned on his masters; those who gave him life, and continued his destined path. Blood-stained armor, circuits burning in rage, a path hidden in an artificial heart, all hidden in a stalwart composure. A monster could hurt but truly he was the one hurting._  
>   
>  His creators thought they wiped his previous memories clean but they lingered, burned, and scarred the artificial monster. So many he had to maim, impale, and slaughter all in the name of 'mother justice'. Like a stranger without a name, all his victims forgotten in the turns of time.
> 
> _Built with a kill switch, only one of the creators the rogue machine spared still possessed it. A slender young man with wild brown curls and azure eyes dark in fear, trembling, in tatters and covered with blood and grime. He held the detonator in one hand, finger lightly hovering over the switch. The artificial machine did not hesitate and brandished his blade, sleek onyx that glowed from its wielder's electric source. Like a heron striking a fish from the river, the android pounced and the switch was flipped..._

 

"How long since he's been like this?", Will asked, looking over his patient's chart with doubt. The medical room all in white and looking over Baltimore was silent except for the beeping of the monitors. A man perhaps in his mid-thirties or early-forties rested in bed with a bandaged eye, most of his appendages gone (his left arm was spared), and pale as winter snow. He was beautiful, Will Graham couldn't argue with that one. He read over the chart once more and read his name; 'Hannibal Lecter' from Lithuania. He's never known anyone from Europe besides his peers and his past professors.  
  
"Couple weeks now, we put him in a medical induced coma for his own safety.", one of the nurses said.

"--His own safety?", Will draws in his brows and takes a look at the slumbering patient. The man only had his arm and an eye left, what kind of damage could he do?  
  
"Before his accident I believe, his family got in some nasty business and the paramedics found him bleeding out. Gruesome stuff, really."  
  
The nurse walked out of the room and left Will Graham standing baffled. He watched Hannibal's monitor and tried to picture a man of his stature, on the blood-soaked pavement, breathing raggedly while his family already departed from this world. Disgust churned in his stomach that made him turn away from his patient, Will Graham hated the world as much as his role at Baltimore's Medical Science Institute. Playing with life as if he was God's instrument, deciding who lived and who had to die, Will sulked about his own existence. In his childhood years he wanted to be a teacher but as time moved on and his education progressed, he was plucked from his southern roots and placed at prestigious institutes after another. Normally his parents wouldn't be able to afford his education but someone up above saw his _potential_.

Now he was one of the best researchers and technical surgeons employed.

Will lingered in Hannibal's room a little longer then left for his office, catching the express elevator up to the twenty-fourth floor. He shared the elevator with a few nurses, doctors, and interns but one particular person caught his eye. Her dark brown hair tied in a bun, sapphire eyes lidded and down at her paperwork, and the faint smell of peach coming off of her clothes. She felt eyes on her and looked to her left, Will's eyes darting away in shyness.

Alana Bloom, a longtime friend and crush since Will's teenage years, chuckled and scooted closer to him. Will felt the heat of his cheeks and cursed himself.  
  
"Good to see you again, Will. It's not often I see you in this part of the Institute."  
  
"Haha yeah, I've been attending a new patient down on seventh. He's not looking well."

"The one that looked like a ragdoll stitched together in a Tim Burton movie?"

"Uhuh."

"Going to the board to suggest Project RECREATE?"

Project RECREATE had been initiated in early 2020 when the progression of artificial organs and prosthetics reached a new level. In Europe, the first artificial brain and hearts had already been placed inside humans and so far has been a great success. Advances in prosthetics included arms, legs, whole torsos and even full body models became available. Life expectancy in third world countries improved as well as first world. Military organizations invested in Project RECREATE and kept it running for almost ten years. Two years prior to the surge for artificial parts, protests over the moral "code" sparked worldwide attention.

There was good in the project but those with corrupted and self-centered goals exploited the cause. Will Graham had seen it with his own eyes, children from all over the globe forced as experiments for Project RECREATE's prosthetics. At the time, only adults could receive emergency prosthetics and organs but in malicious labs, children were being mutilated and had untested technology strapped on. It was sickening to know people's evils had no limits.

The express elevator stopped at the twenty-fourth floor; the Research wing, and Will Graham stepped out, followed by Alana Bloom. They walked together down the pure glass hallway, the skyline of Baltimore in the background, and made small talk along the way. In this wing, labs side by side from pharmaceutical to surgeries-in-progress resided. Will Graham's office was near the end while Alana had to return to her designated lab in another part of the wing. They said their goodbyes and Will retreated to the safety of his office.

His mind couldn't wander from Hannibal and how his body looked so broken. Reduced into a coma just to be kept alive on morphine, a pitiful existence for someone that used to have it all. Will sighed and looked out to the white artificial clouds of Baltimore's sky. _Nobody could play God not even God himself_.

 

> _The movie was cute, even for a child's movie, Hannibal walked hand-in-hand with his young sister, Mischa, and his uncle Robertas behind them. About 10 P.M. which was quite late for Mischa, having school the next day, but she was psyched about the new film she wanted to see. Her curly blonde hair bouncing softly with every skip, round brown eyes looking at the world in childish happiness, and her lips curled into a smile. They turned the corner and uncle Robertas's famous black Bentley waited patiently._   
>    
>  _"Can we see another movie soon, 'Annibal?", Mischa asked, tugging her elder brother's sleeve tighter. Hannibal chuckled and kept pacing to the car._   
>    
>  _"Of course, perhaps over the weekend."_
> 
> _Mischa nearly exploded with happiness as she ran off from Hannibal towards the Bentley. Hannibal tried to reach for her but even with tiny legs, she was fast. The street was mostly dead except for the trash rolling with the wind._
> 
> _He walked a little quicker and from the corner of his eye he could see figures come from the opposite alley. At least four strong-built figures wearing dark clothing rolled around, maliciously hooting and hollering in a hooligan's manner. Uncle Robertas caught up with his niece and nephew and stood his ground, crimson eyes alert and deadest on the figures across the street._   
>    
>  _"Keep Mischa close.", he said._   
>    
>  _Hannibal nodded and pulled Mischa closer to him, wearily watching his uncle go around to the driver's side to unlock the car. The vociferous gang of men immediately spotted Robertas and quieted their voices, moving almost in a pack-like instinct towards the Lecters. Mischa clutched her brother's jacket and Hannibal took the moment to get her into the unlocked car, standing now with his uncle._   
>    
>  _"You're not around here, aren't 'cha?", one of the men spitted, his greasy look and the alcohol seeping off of him made Robertas's nostrils flare. The other companions studied the car and grinned, one of them had the audacity to trail his fingers over the body. Robertas held his breath but Hannibal took the initiative and took a couple steps, earning the attention of the pack._   
>    
>  _"It's money you want, right?", Hannibal suggested, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. One man raised an eyebrow in interest. Hannibal took out his entire paycheck for the month; nearly seven-hundred and fifty dollars, and offered it. A man about Hannibal's stature swiped the cash with no hesitation and counted it. Robertas looked at his nephew and took out his wallet, which was heavier than Hannibal's. While he was doing that, Hannibal unstrapped his diamond-encrusted watch of his wrist and also offered it._
> 
> _It was like a field day for the hooligans, taking everything they were offered without blinking._
> 
> _"We dont want any trouble. That's all we have.", Robertas mutters, hearing Mischa sob in the back seat. Hannibal nodded in agreement._
> 
> _"Hey Julius, what about the car?", one of the men asked._   
>    
>  _The "Alpha" of the group, Julius, looked over the Bentley and noticed the little girl inside, furrowing his brows in disdain. He looked over Hannibal and Robertas then chuckled._   
>    
>  _"You're right, the car aint something these rich fucks can’t buy again."_
> 
> _Hannibal snarled under his breath but before he could do anything, Robertas turned to him._   
>    
>  _"Hannibal, get Misch-"_   
>    
>  _The pack issued their attack, three men already jumping Robertas while the other two slammed Hannibal against the Bentley and to the ground. Like the air's been knocked out his lungs, Hannibal wheezed at every blow he got. His uncle was a man of average size but he couldn't fend of three attackers at once. Mischa wailed from inside the car._
> 
> _One of the attacker's blows had Hannibal's head rattling against the concreate, vision becoming hazy and filled with vibrant colors. They left him there to open the passenger door, grabbing the wailing girl inside and bringing her down to the pavement as well, Robertas shouting and fending himself from his rabid attackers._
> 
> _Hannibal couldn't keep his eyes open and finally fell into the arms of unconsciousness._
> 
>  

Will Graham took another two floors to the Project RECREATE lab facility, greeted by one of the attendants, Matthew Brown, at his arrival. He was given a manila folder with a picture stapled to it; his patient's picture, and he took a deep breath.  
  
"The Board already knew about my request, Matt?", Will asked, not needing to open the manila folder.

"I think the Board made the request before you even thought about the request.", Matt replies coyly, eyes not meeting Will's.

"I guess I can thank Chilton, thanks Matt."

Will branches away from Matthew and walked into the Board room, the raised round table and its holders already seated and looking down on Will. There on his _throne_ was prestigious Dr. Chilton, the suave doctor from every medical drama in the essence of a man. He smiled when Will took his stand on inner glass platform, watching it raise to be at eye-level. He clasped his hands together and chuckled.

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Graham."

 

>   _Hannibal woke up in numbness, his head clouded in a misty haze, and somewhere foreign. It smelled like mildew and trash, his gag reflex threating to arise. He had to get up, Hannibal told himself. When he tried to stand, he found out he couldn't. When his vision cleared, one side was black. And when he tried to lift his arms, he only saw one. He screamed and cried at the realization. Someone passing by noticed him and quickly ran to him, the stranger's face ghostly pale as she vomited. She quickly retrieved her phone and started to dial for help. Hannibal sobbed and writhed pathetically, he was beyond help._

 

"He'll be a perfect candidate for Project RECREATE, Mr. Graham. Under these circumstances, his consent will not be questioned.", Chilton says, getting positive feedback from the colleagues around him.

Will cheered inside for the proposition but he knew the stakes of Project RECREATE. Once the procedure was completed, Hannibal would be forced to enlist into the American military till he either malfunctions or dismantled. That's the life of an artificial soldier, fight until they rust and can't fight any more.

"The operation date is up to you, Mr. Graham. I enjoyed our little talk."

Will Graham's platform lowered on its own and he stepped out, the sliding doors opening for him as he exited.  
  
"Ciao."  
  
He went back to the seventh floor and into Hannibal's room, the same nurse from before had already taken care of his grooming. His face looked soft to the touch but Will wasn't going to step out of his professional boundaries. Instead, he sat near his bedside and held his only hand.  
  
"I can't wait for you to wake up, Hannibal."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal's surgery commences and Will Graham finally beholds the meaning of "man and machine"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ☂ Mini-update as my Christmas break comes to an end! I'm not really into science so most of the information involving surgeries, how electricity works, and artificial parts and organs come from Google.
> 
> To fully visualize Hannibal's new body, I have Raiden here from Metal Gear to demonstrate:  
> [here's the suit](http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/078/4/8/metal_gear_rising___revengeance___raiden_by_ishikahiruma-d5yknwn.jpg)
> 
> ☂I'll try to have another update possibly by next weekend.
> 
> No triggers in this update :)

2

> _Will Graham watched as the team of doctors and nurses wheeled Hannibal's bed through the corridor and to the express elevator, anxiety clutching his shoulders. He wasn't ready for the operation at all, hell; he didn't even sleep last night. He took the next free express elevator and met Hannibal on the Surgical Ward, rushing in to get himself prepared for surgery. He lathered his hands and arms with antibacterial soap and rinsed, suiting up in white, and checking in with his surgical nurses. Seeing Hannibal getting prepped next door made his heart raced in excitement. He was going to be the knight to wake Sleeping Beauty, in a metaphorical sense._

"The prosthetics are ready, Dr. Graham.", one nurse announced, wheeling in small metal boxes with a power cord wrapped around them.  
  
"Good", Will replied, his eyes casting down on Hannibal like the Beholder. "Get those plugged up."  
  
Within the metal boxes were the specified engineered organs used in the higher classes of full body prosthetics. Normally donor organs would've sufficed but Hannibal was beyond the point of a simple operation; his heart was too weak to survive the surgery. Instead, he preordered Hannibal his own custom made body prosthetic.

The exoskeleton, a pure black suit that would be connected to Hannibal's nervous system, had to be charged with at least three-thousand joules to make even the arm bend. Every wire acted as a vein, electricity as the life force that would bring Hannibal into a new sense of life.

"We'll be ready shortly..."

> _A beautiful masterpiece between man and technology, Will wiped his brown with the back of his gloved hand and sat his cardiac stabilizer down. The new heart; encased in metal and flesh, already pumping artificial life within Hannibal's chest. He would recover for a few hours before the exoskeleton would be programmed, not by Will Graham's hands, and then the body will be fully engineered._
> 
> _Will stripped out of his scrubs and took much needed coffee break. As he lounged in the coffee room, he saw his team wheel Hannibal back down for his fitting, looking livelier since the operation._
> 
> _'Look at him', Will mused to himself, 'He doesn't realize how beautiful he is.'_
> 
> _He would see Hannibal soon._

He was alive; not awake, but he was alive. Hannibal felt numbness where his arm and hand use to be as the distant murmurs of people roused him. There was a tube down his throat which prevented him from taking a mouthful of air, the machine beeping in response. He shifted uncomfortably but found no relief in his state. With enough willpower, his eyes opened and he fully got a view of his new white world. Everything was painfully white, the walls, the clouds, and even the world as he knew it. He couldn't recollect what happened before he was administered into the hospital. Hannibal knew his arms and legs were gone; in a mysterious way, he felt like he still had them. He wondered who would've had the malicious spirit to render him immobile.

A nurse came into his room to check how much fluid he had remaining in his IV and finally noticed he was awake, her face lighting up in joy and she jogged out. Hannibal looked up at the hanging IV bag and mentally sighed. _He hated the idea of not being able to take care of himself_.

About a few minutes later he was greeted by someone so familiar but seemed like a stranger. Mocha curls almost down to his shoulders, azure eyes bright in sheer happiness, and a certain calamity around him. Dressed down in a white lab coat, flannel, and slacks, the doctor fixed his glasses and shooed his flock of nurses away. He approached Hannibal's bed side and beamed towards him.

"Hello Mr. Lecter, it's wonderful to see you awake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos are cleaning up the surgical room while your comments are congratulating in the break room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal finally awakes and meets the man responsible for saving his life. He's introduced to his new body parts and takes his first steps to becoming whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rushed updated because all the feedback I was getting ~! More in the future weeks as I try to fit writing into my school schedule. I'm not a big fan when it comes to Sci-Fi but hopefully it makes sense so far.
> 
> Next update will be later on in the week or weekend, whenever I can get it done and revised.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Mentions of body parts

3

**And I'll never say that everything's alright,**

**That when we're gone we'll sleep with satellites,**

**We're killing more than the loneliness behind the eyes,**

**Sometimes the best you can do is just survive.**

❝Throw Away❞ by Blue Stahli

 

"You've been administered into the Baltimore Medical Science Institute, Mr. Lecter, and for quite some time.", Will explained.  
  
Hannibal looked at him with little doubt and chuckled weakly, sounding hurt as he tried to get himself inclined with the help of his only arm. Doctor Graham quickly came to the aid and helped Hannibal up to a comfortable position. Light azure eyes filled with worry towards his patient, something uncommon these days, made Hannibal's crimson falter. Perceived as pity, Hannibal looked away and grunted.  
  
"Uhm, do you remember anything prior to your stay?"  
  
 _Hannibal dabbled around in his memory and found nothing more but fragments of that chilling night. He was holding someone's hand, a child's hand, and there was another man nearby. His hair was dark and came down to his shoulders, an aged appearance, and somehow was related to Hannibal._  
  
"It's mostly a haze.", Hannibal replied bluntly.

 

Dr. Graham nodded and crossed his legs, idly sitting in the chair, and not saying another word. Hannibal found it disturbing to know there was someone waiting for him to wake up, it made his spine shiver. It didn't matter if Will was his doctor, it played with his psyche. Like a thousand sapphires glaring down from the misty heavens, Will Graham was like the Archangel Michael, ready to bestow grace or strike Hannibal down. The way Dr. Graham was so dedicated to his recovery, commendable, and Hannibal wasn't going to neglect simple human emotions.

  
"--How long you've been a doctor?", Hannibal questions. Innocent small talk.  
  
Will lightened up and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. A finger on the corner of his lips and his eyes going left to right in thought.  
  
"Maybe about ten years perhaps? I started at an early edge."  
  
Hannibal drew his brows together. Will Graham couldn't be over thirty, his face looked of childish innocence and if was stuck in a pre-puberty phase. His voice didn't help him either.  
  
"What did you do before your accident?", Will beams but the realization of his words made him flush. "If it's not troubling for you."  
  
"I was going to medical school."  
  
"Really? That's great."

  
"If you would let me finish.", Hannibal pauses, sanguine eyes likes knives towards Will. "I was going to medical school till my parents died and I had to take care of _moi soeur_."  
  
Will cowered in his seat and took a shaky breath. It was quite obvious he made a terrible mistake and he was feeling awkward. Hannibal felt as if Dr. Graham was hiding something.  
  
"There's something you aren't telling me."

 

 

 

> _Will Graham watched the little body bag being wheeled away by the coroner, a gnawing sense of dread washing over like a raging tsunami. He couldn't break down not like he wanted to, he had to keep his emotions out of his work. A life barely lived taken by ruthless monsters. An innocent child, Will balled his fists, new to the world and couldn't imagine what evil looked like. There had been another victim but pieces of him had to be packaged and carried away for examination. The area the paramedics was called out to was decent, mostly suburbs, and most unlikely to find a tragedy such as this kind. Will's head rattled with theories and assumptions but he quickly dismissed them once he saw Crawford, chief of the Baltimore police._
> 
>   
>  _Firm and statuesque for his age, umber skin barely aged, and this sense of authority embedded into his hard drive. Bald due to the rim of his metal where his central processors were wired, he was the epitome of human machinery. Underneath his uniform Will could tell he had a full body prosthetic, the sheer girth of his body couldn't be entirely human. Will's heart skipped a beat when Crawford noticed him behind the team of paramedics and EMTs, approaching closer with onyx eyes rimmed in silver. He held out his hand and grinned._
> 
>   
>  _"Jack Crawford, chief of Baltimore's Police."_   
>    
>  _Will swallowed and took Crawford's hand, shaking once, twice, and returning his hand to his side. His eyes wandered Crawford's face and form, a glint of interest followed by anxiousness._
> 
>   
>  _"Will Graham, medical researcher and surgeon at the Balt-"_   
>    
>  _"There's no need to explain yourself, Dr. Graham, I've heard of your commendable exploits.", the chief of police interrupted._
> 
>  
> 
> _Will pursed his lips at the sudden rudeness but a man with such power in society couldn't be blamed; he knew nothing other than his arrogance._
> 
> _"I'm here about the investigation."_
> 
>   
>  _"--Go ahead, I'm just observing."_
> 
>   
>  _Crawford chuckled and turned away, stalking back to his flock of animatronics; fully equipped for military-styled combat. They were full metal skeletons like out of Terminator, but in this case, appeared to be human. They came in different shades of khaki, tan, and mocha, same black eyes, and only had one purpose which was to 'protect and serve'. Will shook his head and returned his attentions towards the "crime scene"._
> 
> _If he was going to create life, he didn't want to create a mindless, artificial, human suit that only could perform simple tasks. He wanted to grant someone a second chance._

"Well we had to exchange your heart for substitution, it would've failed during surgery if we didn’t.", Will explained.

Hannibal nodded and felt where the bandage was on his chest, his heart beat deeper and more rhythmical than he remembered.

"And hopefully by tomorrow morning we'll be able to have you suited into your exoskeleton and body prosthetics."  
  
 _Prosthetics_? Hannibal looked at Dr. Graham in confusion. He's heard about prosthetic bodies mostly from film and military but never thought he was actually going to be placed in one. Even with his family's wealth, he didn't take he would be able to afford one.  
  
"--Don't worry about the cost, Mr. Lecter. The Board has taken care of it."

"There's always something in fine print, Dr. Graham. What am I selling my soul to?"

Will Graham admired Hannibal's sharpness and even found it as one his best traits. He stood up from his chair and ran his hands down his coat.  
  
"You'll be another great chapter of science and mankind, Mr. Lecter. And I hope I'll be narrating your story."

Hannibal watched as Dr. Graham left his room with something to ponder on. He slid back down into his bed and closed his eyes. Exhausted but excited for the events to come, he counted till he fell under the spell of sleep.

 

 

 

> _Hannibal's next operation involving his exoskeleton went fairly well, the modules were calibrated to assess parts of the body that needed it most. Will Graham watched from the corner of his eye as the medical engineers started equipping Hannibal's arm and legs, his patient's patience had been well endowed. Onyx black prosthetics; wires concealed underneath, long and nimble like Hannibal's arm and legs use to be._   
>    
>  _The engineers took a step back and allowed Hannibal to test out his new physique, slowly bending fingers and hearing the joints poop in between them. He crossed his legs and tested out his feet._
> 
> _"--Feels almost natural.", Hannibal commented._
> 
> _"That's great, it should feel natural.", Will replied, approaching Hannibal and holding out his hand._   
>    
>  _Hannibal held his own hand out and felt the warmness of Will's hand, squeezing it with his own, hearing a short gasp of pain. He quickly relieved the pressure and pursed his lips; Will clutching in his hand as he stepped back. He chuckled nervously and allowed the engineers to flock back to Hannibal._
> 
>   
>  _"I guess that's a sign we should start physical therapy."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos are programming Hannibal's circuits while your comments are polishing his new prosthetics.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal continues his physical therapy and meets someone new while Will is stressed out about unfinished work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big apologies for not updating this sooner! My computer had broke down on me and I had to accumulate some money really quick because I don't only use this computer for leisure, its also used for school. I've been really emotionally distressed and found that writing is my only release.
> 
> Triggers: Mentions/Implications of spousal abuse.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter and hopefully I'll get another update ready.

4

> _Weeks of vigorous physical therapy strengthen Hannibal's new bond to his prosthetics, showing superb progress under the watchful eye of the hospital staff. He's been in the best shape of his life. His body had been responding to the new body parts as if they were his own._
> 
> _Hannibal was allowed to visit the hospital's gym to shoot a few hoops, passing the hours while he waited for any diagnostic tests Dr. Graham hounds him on. He went into the locker room and stripped out of his hospital wear. Hannibal looked over his physique in the floor mirrors, tracing every part of his body with his eyes. He was basically a machine; the only part of him that was 'organic' was his arm, upper half of his chest and neck, and his head. He shrugged the feeling off and exited the locker room, grabbing a basketball off the rack._

"How's your patient, Dr. Graham?", Matthew asked before stuffing a bagel in his mouth.

Will sat adjacent towards the open medical observation deck, knee-deep in backed up lab work. His eyes lidded in sleep deprivation before finally closing, opening again on Matthew.

"Extremely well compared to those I've had in the past, Matt."

Matthew wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and came to sit on the edge of Will's table. Dark brown eyes soft with worry, Matthew watched as Will scribbled calculations.  
  
"You're tiring yourself out, Will. Let me take care of this."

Will shook his head and continued his calculations, the numbers in his head spinning around like a carnival ride. He needed to have his portfolio finished before the end of the night; Chilton would have him sent away to the far reaches of the planet.

The kindness of Matthew's spirit was beyond imaginable but Will couldn't bestow this burden on his friend.  
  
"It's okay Matthew, can you just keep tabs on Mr. Lecter?"  
  
It was the least Matthew could do for Will while he finished. Matthew had obtained a Master's degree in Robotics and Biological Engineering, he would have no problem fixing Hannibal's prosthetics in case of emergency. Matthew got off the table and gave his friend a soft pat on the shoulder, leaving him in the empty observation deck.

Will put down his pencil and scrubbed his face. He really needed another cup of expresso.

> _Hannibal was literally dripping in sweat, his face flushed from exhaustion and his good arm aching. He took a rest against the wall and slid down on his bottom, head caressed within his arms. His heart drummed against his ribs in fast, metallic-sounding, intervals. He had no strength to even make it back to the locker room._  
>   
>  The glass door of the gym slid open and Hannibal looked up, sanguine eyes watching a slender figure slip in. A wild mop of red curls caught his attention as he watched, every curl bouncing beautifully. He could see prosthetics underneath the stranger's clothes, grey slate colored metal poking out from the white fabrics. From side view, Hannibal couldn't tell whether it was a full cyborg or even an android. Instantly, a pair of blue-grey eyes honed in on him.
> 
> _The red-haired stranger approached Hannibal on the floor, her metal jaw slack and her eyebrows raised. Sharp and prominent features scarred by what looked like skin damaged by burns and covered partially by metal. Nonetheless, she had this natural beauty surrounding her._  
>   
>  "Must've played one hell of a game.", the woman chided, looking over Hannibal's face, slightly amused.
> 
> _Hannibal nodded and got himself off the floor, towering the young woman by at least a foot. She looked at him and crossed her arms._  
>   
>  "I'm Fredricka Lounds, a long term resident here."
> 
> _"Hannibal Lecter.", Hannibal replied to Fredricka's greeting. He held out his hand and Fredricka gave hers, shaking once, twice, and broke their hands apart. He was quite pleased with the young woman's politeness._
> 
> _  
> "Your prosthetics must be new, Hannibal.", Fredricka commented. She leaned against the gym wall and looked over Hannibal's body._
> 
> _Hannibal nodded and joined her on the wall, running a hand through his damp hair. He desperately desired for a cool shower._  
>   
>  "I never seen someone with almost a full body model.", Hannibal admitted. The only part of Fredricka that could be deemed as 'real' was the upper left side of her face and her neck. 
> 
> _Fredricka chuckled softly and wrapped her plated fingers around a stray curl._  
>   
>  "It's the only option when ninety-five percent of your body had been severely burned."
> 
> _Hannibal swallowed thickly and focused his attentions on something other than the thought of burning flesh. His accident hadn't been so severe, Hannibal scolded himself, and he should be deemed lucky for even having whats left._
> 
> _  
> "--Don't let that get to you, Hannibal. I had my full share of crazies and psychos.", Fredricka said, giving a playful punch to Hannibal's arm. She got off the wall and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her bottoms._
> 
> _  
> "I'll see you around, hm?"_

Will submitted his finished portfolio to Chilton's secretary and nearly exploded in relief. He had been working for over seven hours and desperately needed a long vacation. He took the express elevator straight to the parking garage.

Like an empty graveyard haunted by ghouls, Will paced through the empty lots till his car; a bright red 1961 Volvo P120. He literally had the 'blast of the past' kind of vehicle but he kept up the maintenance. He unlocked the driver side door and slipped in, starting his engine and checking his mirror. Will could feel the comfort of his bed waiting for him back at his apartment. He pulled out slowly and from the front mirror he saw something skid past the back of his car. He slammed down his break and lunged forward, chest hitting the steering wheel.

Will groaned but whirled his head back around to see whatever had zoomed past. When nothing showed up after a few minutes, he rested his head on the steering wheel and cursed his sleep-deprived eyes.

_He really needed to lay off the caffeine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos are watching Hannibal play basketball while your comments are mopping the gym floor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Hannibal resumes his therapy, Will faces terrors within his dreams. The Vergers are introduced with more than a fancy title to their name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! I't starting to get easier to get these chapters written, reread, and posted.
> 
> Margot and Mason Verger finally introduced!
> 
> Triggers: Implied Body Horror, References to Childhood Abuse

5

Forever the ones

who will claim this day

The age of creation will fade

as we turn from grace

We'd place the light of our sentience

within the machine

and we would send it to heaven

to end God's regime

\-- ❝Cybergenesis❞ by Machinae Supremacy

 

> _A waking nightmare that held him both hands, keeping him in deep slumber, not willing to let him go. Will tossed and turned in his bed, sweat pooled up underneath him, cold. His dogs piled up in the next room oblivious to their master's night terrors. A serpent up his leg, winding and twisting, fangs ready to sink into his flesh. His thrashing caused his clock to fall off his nightstand, the sound finally yanking him free of his nightmare._
> 
> _He shot straight up in bed and breathed raggedly. Chills ran up and down his arms and legs as he sat there. His heart thumped in his chest in fast, repetitive, beats, his eyes wide and shallow. It's been the seventh night of his never-ending horrors; sometimes they would appear in the day or even when he slumbered. He had such terrors when he was a child back in Louisiana, but, not to this extreme extent. Will got out of bed and ran himself a cool shower, stripping out of sweat-drenched clothes, and sighing under the spray. He carded his hands through his curls and rested his head against the tiled wall._
> 
> _Will didn't trust himself to fall back to sleep, instead, he crept past his dogs and into his kitchen. He made himself a warm coffee and leaned against the counter, idly thinking to himself._
> 
> _'--What to do when you're insane...'_

Hannibal waited for Matthew to finish the diagnostic test; simple movement tests for his new prosthetics, with bated breath. The urge to go back down to the track or into the gymnasium bugged him. Matthew started tweaking the last few wires in Hannibal's wrists, one particular jolt causing Hannibal to twitch; slapping the nurse's face with a 'smack'. Matthew fell back as Hannibal lunged back, his arm becoming jittery as exposed wires sparked.

"Jesus!", Matt huffed, wheeling himself back up to Hannibal's side, grabbing his wrist again to place delicate wires back in place. Hannibal, bewildered by his own actions, coughed nervously and kept a grip on his wrist.

"That's never happened...", he uttered.

Matthew looked up and grinned, closing the panel on Hannibal's wrist.

"It's not the first time I've been hit, you're all set."

Matthew stood up and put his tools back into his kit. Another late afternoon running errands for Will while the man upstairs (Chilton) ruled with an iron fist. He didn't exactly enjoy his profession but it kept the mind busy. Robotics never was his calling until prosthetics were first introduced. In reality, he hoped to be someone who could help others in a place where technology couldn't revamp; the mind.

  
Hannibal stood up and stretched cat-like, lanky limbs and legs bending and relaxing; metallic muscle sighing softly with each move. He didn't think about slipping on any clothing; it seemed to be the norm for prosthetic users, and not too many chastised him for being bare. What was there to expose? Everything was plated in thick onyx metal.

"--May I leave now?", Hannibal asked, waiting for Matthew to get his things together.

The nurse looked over his shoulder and nodded.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Lecter."

> _Heels clicking against the winding marble stairs in slow rhythm. A smell of lavender and rosemary roaming in the air--a lovely smell and not too harsh on the nose. In between delicate hands was a porcelain mask; lips painted red and in a bow-shaped. Her dear brother hated going out without his precious mask. Margot hummed to herself as she paced down the hallway, portraits of her predecessors beaming at her as she passed. Her father, bless his troubled soul, was the newest addition to the long line; tired-looking even through art. He overworked himself, Margot watched her father's last days in little compassion towards his health. Mason was the only one absolutely wrecked over his passing. She couldn’t blame her brother--he had a weak heart._
> 
> _She rapped on Mason's door and let herself in the room. Pitch black except for the round aquarium in the middle of the room; bright azure with a black and albino moray eel swimming about in a perfect circle. Mason referred to these beautiful creatures as his 'yin' and 'yang' but Margot had no taste in aquatic animals. Mason buried himself underneath his blankets, a mop of silvery blonde hair upon his head poked from the duvet. Margot took a mental note and walked to her twin's bedside, setting the porcelain mask down carefully beside her._
> 
> _Mason groaned and pulled the cover off his face, his mix-matched eyes still in the haze of sleep. Most of his face had been spared from the accident; half-gnawed to the point Margot could see a little bit of the cheek bone. A day she remembered with fondness; pushing her brother into the restless mob of swine, one of her greatest victories. Her brother was a tyrant and deserved more than a half-eaten face and skin missing in some places. Mason had never pursued her for her crime, instead, he kept his grudge up whenever his dear sister came near._
> 
> _Early childhood abuse from Mason and her other male relatives had scorned her till that day. Margot had the rest of her cousins slain one by one; through methods not of her own._
> 
> _"What are you doing here, Margot? Who put you up to this?", Mason asked, voice laced with drowsiness._  
>   
>  Margot smiled and carded her hands through her brother's messy hair, feeling the grease slick between her fingers. She cupped Mason's "good" side and nudged her nose against what was left of his.
> 
> _  
> "Dear brother, I came here on my own accord. I thought you wanted to take a walk around the estate with me.", Margot chimed, giving her brother a vicious stare underneath her fanned eyelashes._
> 
> _Mason furrowed his brows in thought and pushed his sister back with his arm, seeing the mask beside her, he took it in his hands. He equipped his mask flawlessly and glared at his sister, ignoring her and her cutesy ways so he could get dressed. He stripped out of pajamas and got into his casualwear._  
>   
>  "Your thoughts are invalid but not shunned, I want to take a walk."
> 
> _Margot ignored her brother's comment and trailed him. Their house servants bowed in their arrival but Mason pushed them aside, never been fond of humans beside himself._
> 
> _The estate in early spring had already began to blossom in vibrant hyacinths, roses, and cherry blossoms, Margot enjoyed this time of the year while Mason wished every single flower to be burned. She hooked her arm with her brother's and walked with him._
> 
> _"How much longer must I wear this hideous mask?", Mason spat, fidgeting with the straps on the side._
> 
> _Margot chuckled softly and squeezed Mason's arm tighter. He could take off the mask any time he wanted--not that his face wouldn't make a ghoul shriek in terror._
> 
> _  
> "Not long I hope, I heard the prestigious Baltimore Medical Science Institute has very commendable prosthetics. Perhaps we will look into that?"_
> 
> _Like if a fuse went off in his head, Mason jerked Margot into a halt and looked at her; past the mask Margot could see the sickening delight she never grew fond of. He was salivating; the drool trailing down underneath his mask, and Margot felt shivers down her spine._
> 
> _"A man within a machine, what a brilliant idea! I could keep our father's empire running for decades to come! Wouldn't you like that Margot? Our names recorded in history?"_
> 
> _Margot swallowed and thought over her words carefully. If she didn't agree with Mason, there would be conflict and she didn't want any more new bruises on top of the old. Agreeing with her maniacal brother, Margot nodded and smiled feverishly._
> 
> _"Of course, Mason. It’s what father would've wanted."_
> 
> _Mason beamed in childish delight and nearly broke out in a jig. He unstrapped his mask and threw it down to the red brick, the fragile mask cracking into dozens of pieces. His sister hid her disgust behind her smiles, a not so obvious gesture. Besides, he suddenly felt rejuvenated..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos are helping Hannibal use his new parts while your comments are tending to the Verger's gardens.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham is supplied with classified information that could jeopardize his position at the Baltimore Medical Science Institute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: References to mental illness
> 
> ~ Uhm, I'm starting my long term homeschooling next week and will be WELL occupied in my studies. Future updates may be shorter/longer updates will be published later on.
> 
> Thank you for reading~subscribe to me/this work and please share this with a friend.

6

 

"--Your patient is recovering excellently, Dr. Graham. By far your best work to our project.", Chilton said, rolling a cigar between his fingers. His office was oval shaped and looked over the skyline, round glass windows crystal clear, and smelled faintly of lemon. Will Graham shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes pinned down on his lap. In truth, he was supposed to be happy with his advancements; Hannibal especially, but it didn't feel _right._ Conflicted, Will quietly cleared his throat and looked up at his superior.

"Thank you, Dr. Chilton. I trust that you were satisfied with my analysis report?"

Chilton slipped his cigar between his lips and lit it with a lighter, inhaling the foul-smelling smoke, and exhaling over his shoulder. His dark colored eyes like black daggers, stabbing Will's frame over and over again, sharp and vicious--Chilton opened his drawer, again, not taking his eyes off of Will Graham, and pulled out a small flash drive. The younger doctor swallowed dryly and focused his eyes down on the flash drive.

"--The contents of this flash drive are only for your eyes, William.", Chilton warned, a snarl rising out of his voice.

Will flinched mentally and took the flash drive into his lab coat; needing no further explanation on the consequences if he were to share the contents.

"May I ask what is on this flash drive, Dr. Chilton?", he asked.

Chilton took another puff from his cigar before extinguishing it. He tapped his finger on his desk and furrowed his brows at Will. Whether he was irritated with Will or just appearing intimidating, Will couldn't decipher either choice. He bowed his head as an apology.  
  
"It's best to not ask questions, William. Now get out."

  
Will didn't need to hear the phrase twice, nearly knocking over his seat as he fled, the automatic door swooshing softly behind him. From Chilton's office, he took the spiraling stairway all the way down to another observation deck. On this level, top engineers and researchers passed between their corridors, a main elevator would take Will back into the hospital level. He made his way through the bustling crowd of people and squeezed into the elevator. In less than five minutes, he was back down to his floor. He slipped into his office and locked the door behind him...

 

* * *

 

Hannibal couldn't maintain a grip on anything, the third glass he's had now shattered onto the floor. It was annoying as well as frustrating, ever since Matthew revamped his wrist--everything's been going haywire. The other day while he was trying to shave, he nearly slashed his throat. Hannibal didn't like this at all and hoped Dr. Graham would show up. He sat patiently in a chair by the window, clutching his sparking wrist.  
  
A knock at the frame of his door made Hannibal look up, a slender woman in a lab coat peeked in. Her dark brown that went past her chest looked like velvet curtains, steel eyes that could pierce the strongest of metals, and a smile that lit up the room. Hannibal stood up as the doctor came in.

"Good morning, Mr. Lecter. I am Doctor Alana Bloom, I'm here instead of Dr. Graham.", Alana greeted, holding out her gloved hand. Hannibal smiled lightly but clutched his wrist even tighter, Alana noticed the strained expression on his face and looked at his wrist.

She quickly saw the issue, Matthew must've got the core wires twisted together, and went for the nearest technical kit. She opened and took out its contents; a screw driver, a small battery pack, and thin wire cutter.  
  
"You're hurting. Sit down.", Alana commanded. Hannibal took a seat back down and gave Dr. Bloom his sparking arm, watching cautiously as the doctor unscrewed the panel. She had no trouble getting electrocuted, fingers grasping the tangled wires and snapping the wires in two. His whole arm went slack and felt like lead, Hannibal quickly panicked at the feeling. The numbness shot straight up the left side of his body down to his toes.  
  
Alana took the wires left out and replaced them with the small battery pack; faintly glowing blue once it was installed. The cold numbness was replaced by a warm tingling feeling, Hannibal flexed his fingers experimentally while Alana nudged the battery's to test operations.  
  
"Does everything feel alright, Mr. Lecter?"

Hannibal raised his arm and was able to flex all of his fingers. His wrists didn't spark nor did it feel like a weight was tied on his arm. One of Dr. Bloom's curls hanged loosely near her face, Hannibal curled his finger around one and held it. She flinched for a moment till she saw no harm was going to be done to her.  
  
"You have very delicate hair.", Hannibal commented, his metallic fingers not registering the soft texture of hair. Alana kindly reclaimed her curl and tucked it behind her ear.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Lecter. If you dont have any more technical malfunctions, I'll be on my way."

Hannibal's eyes drifted back to the window, acknowledging where he may have tipped over the cliff. It was a simple compliment perhaps misjudged as something flirtatious. Once Dr. Bloom left, he prepared himself to walk down to the track.  


* * *

 

Will Graham's eyes widened once a dozen windows with copious amounts of data flashed, prototypes of several unfinished projects which Will didn't know existed till now. His third mug of coffee sat unattended nearby; cold and too sugary for consumption. His hand worked the mouse as he scrolled, reading several detailed reports on experiments at least decades old. The first blueprints for full body mechs looked blotchy and uncompleted; the pen ship was so ineligible that Will had to sharpen the image. A past engineer from Britain known as "Collin Fitzgerald" had most of his work displayed as prototypes instead of finished products. Will licked his dry lips as another file popped out on his computer screen--labeled 'OPERATION: SYNCHRONIZE'. He double clicked and a series of past prosthetics, full mech suits, and a list of names which Will knew no one on.

"--What is all this?", Will asked aloud, knowing not even the voices in his skull could answer.  
  
Underneath the images as the signature mark of Project RECREATE; the globe encased with gear cogs, and the sight was staggering. The child experiments present in China, India, and even in North America, gruesome and uncensored. Will nearly puked up his late dinner. His computer began to make this loud ringing sound before a black screen with the words: 'SAY NO EVIL', flashed. Will quickly turned off his monitor and tried to collect his breath.

_What had he gotten himself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are nervous for Will while your kudos help make another pot of coffee.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason Verger prepares himself for a upcoming surgery while Alana Bloom reflects on her past patient and where Hannibal was going to end up as--a man or a monster who has forgotten what a man was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤ I can't tell you how happy I am to update this masterpiece! If you could imagine how much I love Hannibal and MG, you can see it in my writing! A few more chapters before this fic is closed! ❤
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Sibling Abuse/Domestic Abuse, References to Body Horror/Gore, Sexism
> 
> [Song Inspired By The Chapter!](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzD6A2xTwPQ)

7

❝Fly high

While you're still able In time

Your ego crown will weigh you down

When You're uncrowned and on your way down❞

❝Uncrowned❞ -- Celldweller **  
**

**A Few Weeks Later . . .**

Margot watched her brother happily get himself prepared for the day--He didn't bother to use a scarf to cover up his horror. Her maids stood idly by with their heads bowed to the floor, obviously, they were disgusted by Mason as well. Who wouldn't be? Margot held her tongue as Mason combed through his thinning blonde hair. Some fell out in chunks while some strands still glued onto the teeth of the comb. Margot dismissed her handmaids, sparing them from her brother's mania, and sat down.  
  
A cigarette between her blood-red lips, Margot sighed and exhaled smoke from her nose. Mason decided to wear a hat to protect his balding image; ironically, he was the one who told Margot she was going to bald first. A silly thing from their childhood--Mason would spend ruthless hours tugging Margot's hair till she had little bald spots, in result; Margot had to cut most of her hair off. Till this day, the Verger daughter has kept her hair away from her abusive brother.  
  
"--Oh Margot, words cannot express my joy...", Mason cackled, collecting the chunks of blonde hair on his shoulders. He nearly exploded in laughter when he tried to set the discarded hair back on his head. Margot flinched at the obnoxious noise and extinguished her freshly lit cigarette in the ash tray.

"I can finally leave this husk of my body and into something more... _metal_."  
  
"Are you sure about this, dear brother? This can be a very risk--", Margot began until she had to dodge a comb hurled at her.  
  
The comb hit the wall with a thump but did not break, Margot nearly lost her composure as she kneelt on the floor, clutching her chest where her heart threatened to burst out of. She's been in the crossfire far too many times, every time more startling than the last. The scar on her shoulder blade reminded her--Mason thought it was hilarious to throw a kitchen knife at her just for _existing_.  
  
"Oh shut up Margot, nobody cares about your opinions...Especially me, I should've ripped your tongue out years ago.", Mason spat, a wanna-be snarl rising from where his lips use to be.  
  
Another stone hurled her way, Margot swallowed the abuse as if it was her last meal, rising from the floor and straightening her skirt. Perhaps a tranquilizer would douse Mason's mania for a few hours, God knows how much Margot could use it.  
  
"I'm sorry Mason. Are you ready to leave now?"  
  
"For the love of God, yes. It's a pain in the rear end to look at you and this house."  
  
Mason didn't even bother to grab his cane on the way out, trotting proudly down the hall and towards the front door. Margot only sighed and trailed her brother's shadow--as many times she wanted to finish what she started, Mason was the only thing she had left in his beautifully cruel world. Without Mason, she would have no other purpose but to smile, flutter her eyelashes, and become a trophy to some CEO with money lining his pockets.

Such a sickly thing she was, Margot mused as she met Mason in front of the Porsche, no wonder why Father had high hopes for Mason. She opened the car door for her brother and went around to the driver's side, strapping herself in, and pulling the keys from a storage compartment. Mason strapped his seat belt as well and kept his gaze anywhere other than his sister.  
  
"I'm so happy for you, Mason..."  


* * *

 

  
Doctor Bloom became his daily visitor, bringing crosswords, puzzles, and literature with every visit. Hannibal sat across from her in his room with his eyes wandering over the many colorful puzzle pieces. He managed to get most of the puzzle done while he and Dr. Bloom made small talk. Doctor Graham hadn't visited him since his operation--his duties around the Institute had him circulating to hundreds of different patients. Hannibal couldn't blame him. Besides, Doctor Bloom was more of a talker than Graham.  
  
"Have you thought about what you're going to do after you're cleared from the Institute, Mr. Lecter?", Alana asked, connecting a few blue puzzle pieces together. She looked up to see Hannibal still intent on finishing his part of the puzzle.  
  
Alana found the stalwart composure of Hannibal Lecter uncanny, someone of his past and his injuries so calm and warm about his whole predicament. He's never lashed out on any of the other patients or staff--A huge difference from the patients Alana has had in the past. Her most infamous was a young man, Tobias Budge, a third-degree burn victim with slight neurological disorders. During one of his numerous procedures, Tobias had awoken from his induced sleep and managed to get ahold of a scalpel, slicing one of Alana's nurses across the jugular.

It was a gruesome scene but Tobias managed to get himself free, escape from the medical ward, and out of the institute. Alana was absolutely powerless as she tried to keep her nurse from bleeding out, his grey eyes more like smoky craters. He held onto her lab coat with bloodied fingers, staring up at her helplessly as every breath escaped his body. He died a few minutes later on the floor, security had to forcefully drag Alana away from her nurse as the others got him on a stretcher and wheeled him away.

Ever since that day, Alana couldn't trust anyone composed as Hannibal Lecter. She didn't believe someone so damaged could keep all the built up anger underneath a metal endoskeleton. In every machine, there is a sense of humanity--unless the machine has forgotten what it means to be _human_.  
  
"--Don't know just yet...Perhaps I'll finish medical school.", Hannibal replied, connecting all his puzzle pieces together. He had the mountain side covered with wild flowers while Alana still had to finish the blue sky. Doctor Bloom didn't even attempt to finish her part of the puzzle.  
  
"Can I finish that for you?", Hannibal pointed his onyx finger towards all the puzzle pieces remaining.  
  
Doctor Bloom didn't even answer before Hannibal reached across the table and scooped up the pieces, sorting through them to start putting them together. This was the only chance she may have before the gradual _change_.

 ** _In every machine..._**  
  
"Mr. Lecter, your whole family was slain and you were left in pieces. You can't sit here and act like everything is peaches and cream!", Doctor Bloom rose up from the table, nearly knocking everything on top of it over.  
  
Hannibal sighed at the ruined puzzle and looked at Alana. He rubbed his hands together and got up himself, a full foot taller than the doctor. She swallowed and took a step back.  
  
"Are you really a man anymore?"  
  
Hannibal gently reached for Alana's curls and wrapped them around his finger, the bittersweet tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Did everyone believe he was oblivious? Did they believe now that his heart was incased in metal that he couldn't **feel** anymore?  
  
 **Was he not human in their eyes anymore?**  
  
"I'm going for a walk...", Hannibal released Doctor Bloom's curls and brushed past her. She didn't try to stop him nor did she have any more to say--to Hannibal of course. If he really was a mockery to God's natural creations, then so be it.  
  
 _A monster in metal, a heart of red, and a soul that couldn't be cut._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos are polishing the Verger twins' Porsche while your comments soothe Hannibal's conflicted heart.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack Crawford begins his investigation now that a new victim; Abigail Hobbs, has been maimed. Hannibal checks himself out of the Baltimore Medical Science Institute and meets the Verger twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long overdue even though I've been stressed over things in the recent weeks. Enjoy this update while I take a breather.

> **8**

Jack watched as a young girl of seventeen was wheeled into the ambulance, his face vacant of emotions, his mind clouded over her. Abigail Hobbs, a victim of an acid attack and brutal assault that left her crippled. It was a quarter till dawn when Jack was dispatched to the scene, finding only Abigail writhing in pain as she bled on the concrete.

>   
> _The sensor in his eye displayed her current heartbeat, the amount of blood loss, and her body temperature--She was cold and slipping fast. Jack took off his long trench coat and wrapped it around Abigail, keeping her near his metallic body as the thick material soaked in her blood. Her small arms wrapped around his neck as her sobbing became louder, her face scorned a sickly yellow color, her eyes no longer visible. Jack held his rage deep while the ambulance was heard down the street._  
>   
>  'Is innocence now punishable by death?' Jack uttered the words over and over in his mind.
> 
> _The EMTs quickly rushed to the scene and had to pry Jack away from the broken girl, the police chief nearly lashing at one of them. Beverly Katz, one of the EMTs, had to drag him away._  
>   
>  "We'll take care of her, Crawford. You worry about capturing this sick son of a bitch."  
>   
>  Crawford nodded and made distance between him and the scene. Every wire of his body wanted nothing more than to see the monster reasonable caged.
> 
> _Once his fellow detectives came to the scene, the investigation started..._  
>   
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

Doctor Graham ran down the hallway while the announcement of another emergency echoed behind him, his lab coat hanging off his elbows as he nearly crashed into the emergency ward. Paramedics had wheeled a young woman on a stretcher into the first prepped room, quickly moving her off the stretcher. Will Graham entered the room and was handed a clipboard, reading the contents:  


> NAME: HOBBS, ABIGAIL  
>  AGE: SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD  
>  GENDER: FEMALE  
>  RACE: CAUCASIAN  
>  DOB: 12/17/2015  
>  MOTHER: DANIELLE L. HOBBS (DECEASED)  
>  FATHER: GARRETT J. HOBBS (ALIVE)  
>  ALLERGIES: N/A

Will sat the clipboard down and came to the girl's side, nurses whirling around getting much needed supplies for the upcoming operation. His face crinkled when he saw the extremities of her wounds; her face especially. He knew he wouldn't be able to restore her sight but looking at the gashes, slightly deep stab wounds, and bruises--she had somewhat a chance of survival. Doctor Graham turned away then a hand grabbed his lab coat, he looked over his shoulder to see the young patient glancing his way. Her now sour colored eyes wept.  
  
"Don't let me die, please..."

  
Will swallowed dryly and Abigail let him go. He couldn't be in the room any longer and allowed Doctor Bloom to take over.  He passed the nurse's station and from the corner of his eye he could see a bulky man being escorted by some staff. He was middle-aged and balding, wearing dark green and brown, and looked distraught. Will made a mental note that the man was possibly Abigail's father.  
  
He changed his course and took another route, he didn't have the aptitude to comfort any human being.

Not only that, Will still was recovering from the contents on the flash drive. To confront Chilton would mean risking his position and possibly his entire life. OPERATION: SYNCHRONIZE and PROJECT RECREATE all collaborated into some kind of human experiments for possible weapons. The prosthetics he had been designing and operating with wasn't for the 'benefit' of the patient, but, the testing for a possible walking weapon. _Replaceable, strengthen, and lethal soldiers_ \--Will caught an express elevator to go back up. He long overdued Hannibal Lecter a visit and perhaps a little interaction would be best for him.

* * *

 

Hannibal clothed himself (even though he believed he wasn't nude) as another nurse got some of his belongings ready; his wallet and phone. He checked himself out earlier that morning and was lingering around just in case Doctor Graham came around. Hannibal considered the young doctor as a 'friend' and it would've been rude without saying goodbye. His plain t-shirt and slim jeans felt odd, made him look more bulky because of his prosthetics, but it would make due till he got home. The hospital room where he spent the last few weeks now felt strangely unfamiliar, Hannibal followed the nurse out as she led him to the elevator.

"You'll take this elevator down to the main floor, Mr. Lecter. I hope everything goes well."  
  
Hannibal smiled lightly and walked into the open elevator, pressing the button to go down. The parted door slowly closed till a hand caught it, forcing the elevator to open again. Hannibal was surprised as Doctor Graham entered the elevator.  
  
"Doctor Graham, I wasn't expecting you.", Hannibal said.  
  
Will Graham chuckled and pressed the ground floor button again. "Well, I wasn't expecting you to be leaving so soon."  
  
Both men stood near each other as the elevator started its descent, neither making full eye contact. Hannibal would glance at the younger man from time to time but nothing more. Will looked as if he wanted to say something but he just kept silent, his azure eyes always pinned down at his feet.  
  
Hannibal broke the ice.

"I'm going back to my Uncle's estate till my family can fly in."

"Oh, that's nice giving your circumstances. If you ever need me, you can always call the hospital."

* * *

  
  
The two met each other's eyes and nodded in agreement, the elevator stopping and finally the doors parted. The lobby was almost empty if it wasn't for the few floor techs, Hannibal and Will walked out together. Outside the duo was apprehended by a Porsche coming to a screeching halt in front of the hospital's main entrance.  
  
"Oh God...", Will said under his breath. Hannibal glanced over at the young doctor and raised an eyebrow.

The Porsche's passenger door swung open and a disfigured looking man emerged, what he called a 'smile' reached from ear to ear.  
  
"Hello Doctor Graham!", Mason Verger announced loudly, not bothering to close the door as he approached. Hannibal nearly vomited in his mouth at the sheer sight of Mason's features. A much smaller woman came from around the driver's side--delicate looking but had a look of annoyance on her.

Were the two twins, Hannibal looked over Mason and the young woman with doubt, if so...What happened to the brother?  
  
"It's been a while hasn't it? I've been dying to see you!", Mason was a few inches away from Will till the doctor had to look away, unable to stand the sight.  
  
The Verger brother noticed Hannibal and his eyes nearly came out his skull, his mix-matched eyes looking over the black metal visible underneath Hannibal's clothes.  
  
"And who is this, Doctor Graham?"

Will finally got a hold of his gag reflex and faced Mason, calmly, he looked over to Hannibal.  
  
"Mr. Verger, this is Hannibal Lecter--one of my patients. He's going home today."  
  
Mason looked unimpressed and turned back to his sister. "I'm checking myself, Margot, get my bags."  
Margot nodded and headed back to the Porsche and popped the trunk. Hannibal dispatched himself from Will and Mason to aid Margot. Secretly he was disgusted by how Mason treated her in this brief introduction but he wouldn't intervene just yet.  
  
"It's ok, I don't need any help.", Margot said softly, holding a dark leather bag in one hand. Emerald colored eyes met crimson, Hannibal shrugged his shoulders and lifted another bag onto his arm.  
  
"It's fine, I insist."  
  
Mason had disappeared into the lobby and Will had called one of the floor techs to relieve the bags from Margot and Hannibal. The hospital valet took Margot's keys to the sports car and went to find suitable parking. Margot bowed her head and joined her brother inside.  
  
Will pulled Hannibal to the side. "Mason Verger was one of my previous patients, he's probably here for more facial surgery...Just a little on the psychotic side."

Hannibal figured that, idly rolling his eyes, "He's a little devil if you asked me."  
  
Will stifled out a chuckle.  
  
"Like I said, if you ever need me just call the hospital. I wish you well."

  
Hannibal nodded and fixed the bag of his strap.  
  
"Thank you, Doctor Graham. _Au revoir._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos are at the crime scene while your comments visit Abigail.


End file.
